Have You Been Wicked?
by Standbackufools
Summary: After things go south in England, the Woman finds herself at the office of an old friend: the Mayor of Storybrooke, Maine. 1000 word drabble, implied FF Pairing: Whipped Queen


"Mayor Mills?" Regina's head made a leisurely ascension from looking down at her pile of paperwork, slowly allowing her gaze to rest on the rather flustered face of her assistant. The young blonde lowered her own eyes, unwilling to meet those of her employer, and she swallowed, nervously. "...Ms. Adler is here."

Her attention instantly re-directed, the mayor rose from her seat in a single, liquid movement. She glanced at her reflection in one of her many mirrors, took a moment to run hands through her hair, and finally allowed herself a smirk. "Excellent," she purred in a honeyed, dark voice, and returned to sit behind her desk. She straightened her papers, signing one or two with her usual flourish, and put them neatly aside before finally giving the blonde a nod. "Send her in."

The blonde head ducked behind the door again, and from behind it, Regina could just make out the hushed tones of: "She'll see you now." Dull clicks of heels on wooden floors, the door opened again, and in strode the Woman. As regal as ever.

Regina rose again from her chair, wanting the advantage of doing it so that the Woman could see. Power plays had always been important in their... relationship. If you could call it that. They locked eyes. The world around them faded into nothingness.

Forgotten but not yet dismissed, the assistant quietly cleared her throat. She knew better than to leave before being expressly told to do so. "May I take your coat?" she asked quietly, ducking her head to avoid the two cold looks that were shot her way at the disturbance. She was used to them.

Turning, Ms. Adler's eyes trailed over the blonde, and a dark grin fell into place over red, red lips. "Oh, I do think you'd better." She looked back to Regina, still behind her desk. The Woman made no move to remove the coat other than to display her back to the assistant, wrists stretched out a bit behind her. Swallowing, the blonde stepped forward, hesitant fingers closing over the shoulders of the garment and tugging down. When it slid away from bare skin, she gave a startled gasp, the coat falling ungracefully from her hands.

Regina's eyebrows rose.

The Woman wore nothing but a sheath of black lace and a rather lovely pair of Christian Louboutins.

Dark eyes glanced down at the shoes first, approving of color (black) and style (to die for), before rising over smoothly muscled calves and creamy thighs, only accented by the sheer lace. As her gaze steadily rose, hovering over barely visible dark curls and then again on obviously stiffening nipples, Regina's head tilted just a little to the side, lips parted slightly. Once again meeting Irene's eyes, she chuckled, "You always did know how to make an entrance."

The Woman laughed, striding directly up to the desk with purpose in each measured step. Leaning forward, her hands lightly touched the desk, palms pressing into the smooth surface of cool marble. "You know I've never seen the point of... beating around the bush."

With a tug and two flicks of her wrists, Regina's blazer slid off her shoulders, falling to land on the neglected chair behind her in a whisper of fabric. She, too, leaned forward, getting close enough to the other woman that their noses practically touched, even with the desk between them. "Especially when there are such other, more worthwhile, things to beat?"

"Precisely." She could nearly taste the mayor's breath with every exhale. The scent of apples was intoxicating.

A small flurry of motion beyond them: the assistant scooping up the fallen coat and placing it carefully on the coat rack. "Kathryn," Regina commanded, never taking her eyes off of the Woman directly before her. "You're dismissed for the day. Go home, dear."

"Yes, Madame Mayor," the blonde murmured quickly, and departed. The door closed with a soft click behind her. Neither of them gave her a second thought.

The moment stretched. A beat, and then another. And finally, Irene laughed and then stepped away, fingernails clicking over the desk as she pulled back. "You haven;t changed at all, I see." She sounded pleased.

Heels clicked again as she returned to her hanging coat, slipping her arm into the sleeve and then withdrawing again, extracting the long, familiar length of her riding crop. "Lovely town you have here," Irene murmured, off-hand. "I might have to stay while, this time. England has... lost its appeal." She sighed almost regretfully, and turned over her shoulder to look back at the mayor. "And I really have missed you, Regina," she breathed. She twirled the crop in her hand, watching with interest as Regina's eyes traveled over its length. The mayor knew this particular toy very well indeed, after all. "Have you missed me?"

Allowing her gaze slip back over the other woman, Regina nearly shivered with anticipation. Oh yes, she'd missed Irene as well. Her eyes traced over the rounded curves of her backside. She found herself wetting her lips, and then gave a mental shake. It wouldn't do to give in quite that easily. It would spoil the game. A quip, then: "Would you like a tour, or shall we just get to it?"

"By all means," Irene grinned, gripping the handle of her riding crop so tightly it squeaked. She stepped close enough to tap the end of it almost idly against the surface of Regina's cheek. "Have you been wicked, your highness?"

Regina's head rolled slightly to the side, allowing the familiar leather to grace over the skin of her neck. She gave a faint sigh, and then fixed the Woman with a deadly but not unaroused glare. "'Majesty,' dear," she corrected with the barest hint of a smirk. "If we're going to do this, we may as well do it right."


End file.
